


Untitled for Saucisson

by betterrecieved



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 12:11:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betterrecieved/pseuds/betterrecieved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Et Saucisson encore: prompt? I have another story in my head but would love to see your take on the same -- from the few seconds in A Place in this World when Agron is sitting by himself in the villa near bedtime, watching the ex-slaves play dice games (and is that Nasir among them? -- this is just before Mira and Spartacus try to get their leg over). What is Agron thinking, and is he watching Nasir and wishing for him already? Imagining that saucy, clever boy in his arms? A-hmm..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled for Saucisson

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saucisson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucisson/gifts).



In line of blank-visaged house-pets, glimmering brown eyes flash out into darkness, and Agron looks down at soft-featured boy, prettiest of them all, while Spartacus snatches collar from boy’s tensed throat.

Then Agron’s mind flits again to hopelessness of Naevia’s cause, to girding rebellion with men of violence, men of skill, not women and boys of cunt and ass. 

Slightness of attraction vaporizes into irritation. 

Then slightness of traitorous boy is thrown against wall, held captive by excess muscle - Agron himself could suppress frothing little wild dog with only his finger - and there is snap of crimson violence within this one after all, however impotent, however pathetic.

Would flashing eyes quail under Agron’s gaze, under his candle-lit ludus-hardened body hulking close? Or would this one spit and hiss and claw and scratch? For how long could thin arms and sunken chest hold their own against onslaught of Agron’s teeth and tongue and cock? For there is no question of Agron winning in Agron’s mind, only thrill of limber-limbed sweat-slicked battle. 

Though of course he would slit boy’s throat without second thought - this one is same as any other. He shall find another pretty one in some other villa, agreeable and slight and -

In line of gibbering revelers Agron is pulled to sullen withdrawn boy like moth to torch which consumes it, and with stupid boy’s words attraction flares once more into irritation.

And still Agron is forever after finding himself scorched by this one’s tremulous flame.


End file.
